Sometimes laughter and squeals of delight
Most of the time cries and pleas for help
Kids running under the sun, swimming in the flood
Old men gambling under the sun, smoking by the flood
Watching the sun rise and set on that mountain
On the morning I wake to the sound of trucks
Delivering treasures we used to continue life
At night I sleep after having the dinner delivered to our backyard
When I'm restless I watched the black fireflies that aren't lit
The stench from the mountain carried by the grey wind
Is what she answered, proudly
Whenever asked of home
May 24,2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem